


We Learn As We Go

by Liliako



Series: A Box Marked 'Mine' - J/L/C OT3 [2]
Category: Big Time Rush
Genre: Comfortable Routines, F/M, Future Fic, M/M, Multi, Sexy Distractions, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 00:30:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4982857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liliako/pseuds/Liliako
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Logan just wants to finish his hospital paperwork and go to bed.  James and Camille just want him in bed.  A series of typical Friday nights.</p><p>Future Fic follow up from 'A Box Marked Mine'-verse</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Learn As We Go

“Come to bed,” Camille says quietly as she leans in the door way to the dining room where Logan has taken over the table with papers and books. He looks up at her through silver wire rims apologetically.

“M’sorry, it’s just that I have this patient and no one can figure out what’s wrong with him and,” his eyes are skittering all over the papers and pages and words and she goes right to him. He stops spilling out the sad story of un-curable, un-explainable diseases when she puts her hands in his hair and pulls his face to her silk encased torso. He sighs, wiggling the thin glasses free and leaning comfortably into her, wrapping an arm around her waist. She cards her fingers through his hair, starting at graying temples and raking along the scalp and down his neck.

“Having you exhausted isn’t going to help him. Come sleep, recharge your batteries. You’ll be useless to all of your patients tomorrow if you’re half asleep.”

“I know,”  He sits up a bit and turns his head to kiss the inside of her wrist. “Soon, promise.”

“We’ll keep your space warm,” she says as she pulls away, hand lingering on his cheek and catching on slight stubble. He watches her disappear into the darkness of the hallway to their bedroom and wonders how he got so lucky to have the most understanding and loving people care about him.

*

James shuffles into the dining room and Logan is asleep on his papers, drooling a little. It isn’t a new sight. It happens a few times a month, and it almost always played out this way. Camille asks Logan to come to bed, Logan needs to stay up to work, Camille tells James and guaranteed by two am Logan is passed out in his work. Like clockwork, at two am James will dutifully shuffle out into the dining room in his boxers or flannel pants if it’s cold, and tug Logan out of his chair, picking him up in a fireman’s carry most often to get his dead weight back to their bedroom. There, James will lay Logan down, strip him out of his clothes to his boxers or boxer briefs or whatever silly thing Logan has decided he feels like wearing, then James will roll him to the center of the California King bed where Camille will instinctively wrap her ankle around Logan’s, occasionally snuggling up to him, and James crawls back into bed and does the same- one ankle and maybe throwing an arm over Logan. It’s just one of those things that they do. It’s as routine as putting Camille to bed after she’s had too much wine, or how they put James to bed if life has simply been particularly rough on him that day. It’s their system and it’s worked for years, so they don’t mess with it.

*

“Logan.”   “Logan.”

“…”

“Logan.” “Logan!”

“…”

“Looogan!” “Lo-gaaaan!”

“No, not now, I’m really busy and I just can’t-"

“It’s the weekend! Come play with us!” The voices whine simultaneously at him and he heaves a sigh and looks up. They stand in the doorway, naked and giggling, beautifully unashamed and confident. “Pleeeeeease?”

“I really need to finish this paper work,” he waves a hand at his open briefcase glancing in to see how his little pile has thankfully decreased. “It’s really important, it’s already ten o’clock and-” he looks back up at them and they have twin puppy dog faces. “Oh, come on. You can’t do that and expect it to work, you two have been pulling those faces forever.” They blink innocently at him and then look at each other concerned, then back to him pouting more and trying to look more pleading and adorable.

“This always works,” Camille mopes, “You can’t tell us no when we’re naked and pouty, you can’t resist.” James nods and crouches a little to tilt their heads together at him, arms snaking around her waist.

“It’s not going to work, I’ve become immune to your charms,” Logan says and returns his focus to his work.

“But!” They protest and he holds up a hand without looking at them. He hears them retreat, grumbling, and wonders what their next move will be.

He finds out not twenty minutes later when he hears thumping and moaning.

“Unnnh, yes!” Logan hears Camille shout and James’s groan follows. An immediate blush rises to his face because he can picture what’s going on easily and it trumps budgets, new technology findings, signing off on the new volunteer sheets, etc, etc, etc. His ever so helpful brain supplies him with footage from the secret video they made back just before his 27th birthday that he’s still not exactly sure how they convinced him to make, because if it ever got out all of their careers would be in shambles.

“Fuck!” Camille’s voice carries through the walls and hallways and open doors. Right. That was why. He could picture her head thrashing back and forth on their clean white pillowcases, curls tumbling everywhere, while James ravishes her with a single mindedness that would make everyone stop calling him vain or selfish and call him the most humble and pleasure giving human on the planet. Logan breathes deeply, swallows hard and tries to focus back in on how much a new ultra sound machine will cost.

He manages to get through the next three budget items by some miracle before he hears “Oh god-hmmmnnn so fucking good to me… Yesyesyes-uh!” And then James’s choked off “Ah!” and after that it’s just harsh rasping pants and Logan shifting in his seat because he knows they’ve been doing everything to coax him out but he really just needs to finish his work. Stupid really-attractive-hilarious-smothering-ridiculous-bothersome-and-also-really-wonderful-people he happened to be totally in love with. He sits staring blankly at the same page that’s an application for some high schooler to come and shadow a nurse for a day, trying to think the unsexiest thoughts and will his interested downstairs brain to shut up. It’s starting to work until they stumble in, still completely naked, on freshly fucked trembling legs, faces flushed with sex hair running rampant. He feels his jaw drop and his eyes boggle at them before he quickly composes himself, yelling in his own mind that he isn’t the dorky sixteen year old who’d never gotten laid before, he is a respectable practicing doctor who gets plenty of fine ass from the sexy pair who are currently leaning into the fridge with their aforementioned assets presented towards him.

“Oh, don’t mind us, just having a water break,” Camille chirps as they both stand back up with bottles of water in hand.

“Hydration is important you know!” James chimes in, grinning and waving his bottle.

Logan clears his throat and cleans his glasses nonchalantly. The pair drinks noisily, greedily even, and he feels their eyes on him but he settles back to his work.

“Oo! Cold!” Camille giggles out and Logan hazards a glance back to them.

James is leaning with a bare hip on the Formica counter with a leer on his face, flicking water at her and she’s dancing about like it will save her. She retaliates by dumping what little is left of her water on him, which is about to make Logan yell at them for getting water all over the kitchen floor, but her attack only wets down the front of James’s hair, running down his face, neck, oh hey and there it goes in little drips down his chest. Logan jerks his eyes back to his papers before James can shake in one of those ways he’s done since they were young and he’d get out of the Palmwoods Pool. Logan could swear he stole some of the Jennifer’s power of slow motion because it was like _Baywatch_ watching James Diamond rid himself of errant water droplets. He hears it happen and Camille’s tiny smitten sigh before she squeaks again because James is growling playfully, picking her up and twirling her. He sets her down and they’re laughing again. Logan knows it will be the death of any work tonight if he looks up. They’re quiet a moment and he feels them across the table before steeling himself to look up. “Yes?”

Camille is bent in half over the table, leaning on her hands on top of reports about the land the hospital wants to buy. Her eyelashes flutter and she bites her lip as James blankets her from behind, hands smoothing up her stomach to cup her breasts, propping his chin on her shoulder to smirk at Logan. “Drop what you’re doing and fuck us,” James voice is rough and doesn’t leave room for any argument, Camille gives a whine because she can’t seem to decide if she wants to grind back or push forward into his hands. She does both, rocking, and lets her mouth fall open, back arching when James’s hands squeeze gently.

Logan looks deliberately back down at his paper work in front of him.

Camille thuds her head on the table with a frustrated groan before standing up and throwing her hands up in defeat. James is cursing a steady stream under his breath and muttering angrily. They both storm out of the room.

“Unnngh,” Logan gurgles curling over in his chair, face down in his papers. No man should have to say no to that. “Fuuuuuuck my liiiiife,” he groans softly to his work as he presses down on the tent in his nice black slacks. He sits back up after a moment, breathing to once again regain his focus. The sooner he finishes this bullshit the faster he gets to be with them and not disrupting the balance of life.

*

Logan watches the clock but it’s been nearly two hours and he hasn’t heard anything. They’ve made no more attempts to coerce him away from his work. Not a peep. Not one naked toe has peeked out from the door way. Curiosity gets the best of him and he abandons the few last budget items.

He creeps into their bedroom and finds them curled up on the bed in the dark, exchanging lazy kisses while some movie plays quietly in the background. Camille’s in one of his old t-shirts from their BTR days and it hangs off her shoulder in that elegant sort of sexy way he’s never sure how girls pull off, both her hands resting on the worn out grey tee James has on.   James has an arm draped over her hip, fingers playing with the ends of her hair while the other hand touches her neck and collar bone lightly. Tonight's pajamas are old t-shirts and colorful underwear which shouldn't be as good looking as they make it.

“Hey,” Logan says softly and they stop kissing, turning to look at him but keeping their cheeks pressed together.

“Hi,” she’s got those heavy lidded eyes that at this time of night mean she’s about to doze off, but her head is probably swimming in a haze of warm happy feelings. Camille has always liked just lazing around kissing and it’s grown on her boys as well. She calls it the best high you can get without drugs or risking getting messy obvious stains on your clothes.

“Is the movie disrupting you from your work? We can turn it down,” James offers but Logan makes a quick decision and shakes his head.

“No, its fine, my work’s done.”

“Oh?” Camille says seemingly disinterested.

“Mmmhmm,” Logan smiles, rocking back and forth on his feet. He expected a much different response.

“That’s good, we were just about to go to sleep,” James says, clicking off the movie and tossing the remote on the bedside table.

“Right, okay. I’ll just, change, then…” Logan loosens his tie more, giving them a skeptical look as Camille curls up on James’s chest. He keeps an eye on them while he divests himself of his boring work clothes tie, button up shirt, belt, nice pants, socks- and James just watches him with a small smile like he’s appreciating a good piece of art. Logan figures if they had some sort of plan they’d have enacted it by now and as he turns away to toss his clothes in the hamper he’s racking his brain for what he missed tonight that they’re not following the normal format of him rebuking them and them finding ways to convince him.  He puts on his own battered t-shirt to match tonight's dress code, wondering if they fucked quietly without him and they're all worn out.

Logan slides into bed next to Camille and she shivers. “You’re freezing, get in the middle, we warmed it up.” She climbs over him and he scoots over, taking her place pressed up to James, who has heat rolling off him in waves even through the soft t-shirt. He settles onto his back and they each hook one of his ankles in their customary way but they both curl in on their sides toward him, James throwing an arm over his hips and Camille laying her arm on his chest so her hand rests on top of his heart. He’s almost surprised when she speaks softly. “We’re sorry.”

“For what?” Logan asks, puzzled. For him it had been a normal Friday night, except he’d actually had the self control to not abandon a big pile of work for them, just a few papers.

“We always try to pull you away from your work and it’s not fair. We wouldn’t like it if you bothered us while we were trying to learn lines,” James explains, voice soft and low as well.

“And you work so hard all day but you still have to bring it home and we aren’t being respectful, just selfish.” Camille rubs her nose on his shoulder. Neither of them is meeting his gaze, seeming almost ashamed of themselves. “We know you get stressed out from work and all, but we just miss you so much sometimes…” The sadness in her voice makes his heart physically ache and James tightens his grip on Logan’s hip, squeezing him closer when she says it all.

“Hey, no, I’m the one who should be sorry,” he carries on, ignoring their protests. “I work too much and I should delegate more but I always feel like I can’t. I’m not supposed to work this many hours, it’s not healthy. You two always remind me of that when you coax me away from that stupid table with my little barricade of papers. Thank you for keeping me sane,” Logan laces his fingers into theirs on his hip and chest. “I’m going to make a bigger effort to not bring work home and not stay over time, okay? But never once have I thought either of you were being selfish or anything bad. You only want what’s best for me.” He kisses Camille’s forehead and James’s jaw. “Don’t make me get all squishy about my feelings here,” and they both give a little laugh and everything just feels better. “Let’s all get some sleep, hm?” He receives a hum from either side of him and they all snuggle in for the night.

It's been years since they started this, falling into comfortable routines by now.  Still, every once in a while they bump into things like this and sort them out.  Time may get the best of their hair and their bodies but they'll always have each other.


End file.
